


His own private nurse

by QueensEverywhere (Blodeuwedd)



Series: Branjie Drabbles [6]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25725109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blodeuwedd/pseuds/QueensEverywhere
Summary: His boyfriend is a bit of a drama queen and he loves it.
Relationships: Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo
Series: Branjie Drabbles [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1865911
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	His own private nurse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blackhighheels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackhighheels/gifts).



“Fuck fuck fuckity fuck” Brock just chuckles when he hears his boyfriend swearing up a storm. It’s a sound he’s heard quite often since the quarantine started and he’s grown used to it enough not to panic anymore. They’ve probably run out of vodka or something equally unimportant.

Still, for his own peace of mind, he decides to check what happened, calmly setting the towel he had been using to dry his hair on the towel rack, since he knows well enough it’ll be his ass on the line if he just tosses it on the bed like he used to do when he lived by himself, and walking to the living room.

“What happened?” he asks, voice showing a hint of amusement.

The feeling immediately gets replaced by dread and his heart skips a beat at the sight of José sitting on the couch clutching his foot, tears rolling down his cheeks and small sobs escaping his pursed lips.

“Oh my God, José! What happened?” he repeats the question, his tone now far from calm as he rushes to his boyfriend’s side.

“I hit my foot”, José whines, nodding at the coffee table.

Brock kneels on front of him. “Let me check.”

He reaches for José’s foot, but he pulls away quickly.

“Uh-uhm! No way!”

“Babe, I need to check it.”

José shakes his head stubbornly. “No. Go put a shirt on. A nice one, not of those old ones full of holes you like to wear.”

Brock frowns, confused as to why his putting on a shirt is a priority when José is so clearly in pain. “Just let me look…”

“I said no!” Judging by the volume of his voice, Brock suspects he’s feeling better already. “Now go get dressed so we can go.”

“Go where?”

“To the hospital” José shouts, exasperated. He’s in pain and his boyfriend is wasting time playing dumb.

Brock rolls his eyes. “I’m not taking you to the hospital just because you stubbed your toe. Especially not in the middle of a pandemic. Not only is this a waste of medical resources, we’ll probably end up having to wait forever to be seen since it’s clearly not life or death. Plus, you know, we’d risk actually getting sick. Now, quit being a baby and let me check your toe, damn it!”

José pouts, but does as he’s told, removing his hands from his foot and offering it for his boyfriend to check.

Brock touches him carefully, moving his toe ever so slightly, ignoring the curses and threats coming from José’s mouth. He has seen, and suffered, enough injuries to know it isn’t broken, though it probably hurts like hell.

“It’s okay, you didn’t break it.”

“Are you sure?” José whines, pouting once more. Brock feels his heart clench at the sight. How can a small Puerto Rican have so much power over his heart, he’ll never know.

He leans forward, giving his boyfriend several reassuring pecks on the lips in quick succession.

“I’m sure.”

José puckers his lips and he leans in once more, the kiss lasting a bit longer this time.

“Now” he says, standing up and grabbing some cushions from the couch. “Lean back and put your foot up.”

José does as he is told and Brock helps him get comfortable. He then picks Henry from where he’s lying on the floor and settles him on José‘s lap. “Here, Henry will keep you company. I’ll grab you some ice for that toe and an aspirin.”

He’s barely reached the kitchen before he hears his boyfriend’s voice. “Brock?” He doesn’t even have to look back to know he’s pouting and giving him big puppy eyes.

“Yes?”

“I’m hungry. Can you make me a sandwich too?”

He sighs, but can’t help the small smile on his lips. “Sure.” He knows José will be playing the injured card for the rest of the afternoon, but he doesn’t mind. He wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
